From the Bottom of My Heart
by csmamj
Summary: The first installment of the Lonnie and Monica Saga: Lonnie Jamison has finally met the woman of his dreams. But will a series of unusual circumstances keep them apart? Please feel free to review.
1. Chapter 1

From the Bottom of My Heart

Chapter 1

15 year old Monica Styles was sitting patiently in Althea Tibbs' office waiting to find out why she had been summoned there. She couldn't be in trouble as she was still holding down a straight A average. Mrs. Tibbs did pay special attention to her working students, but Monica's part time clerking position for DA Darnelle had been arranged by Mrs. Tibbs' herself. So the only thing Monica could do was to sit and wait for Mrs. Tibbs to come and tell her what in the world was going on.

While Monica waited, several people, students and teachers alike, would slow down to stare at her through the window. Monica was used to that. The students always stared at her because they were afraid of her intelligence...and she because she was from the Bottoms. The teachers stared at her because for someone so smart, Monica actually spoke very little...and because she was from the Bottoms. They all stared because she was absolutely beautiful.

Monica had thick, shoulder length black hair and perfect mahogany brown skin. She didn't wear make-up, so her skin was flawless, and because she walked everywhere she went, she was in perfect shape. Pretty as she was, Monica didn't date, a conscious decision she made to keep herself out of trouble. And she spent more time reading literature and listening to classical music than she did trying to fit in with her peer group.

Monica was definitely completely displaced, especially for Sparta Mississippi. She knew it, so she basically kept to herself. The staff and students knew it, so they were content to leave her alone as well, except for Mrs. Tibbs. Just when Monica decided to start reading from her D.H. Lawerence collection, Mrs. Tibbs rushed into the office.

"Monica, I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting. Have you been here long?"

"No, ma'am. Only a few minutes. Is everything okay?"

Althea Tibbs smiled and said, "Yes, everything's fine. I actually just wanted to touch base with you on your emancipation case. It looks like everything is in order and ready to go. The judge has asked for one more reference, though."

Monica eyed Mrs. Tibbs very closely. She liked the lady, but Mrs. Tibbs had a way of speaking in circles that drove Monica nuts. Normally, Monica would play stupid just to see what Mrs. Tibbs would do, but this didn't seem the right time to entertain herself. Instead, she said, "And I assume that person would be you, correct?"

Althea had spoken privately with Monica on several occasions. But it never seemed to fail that Monica's maturity and insight would always catch her off guard.

"Yes," she said nervously. "That person is me. Listen, I know that you've been taking care of yourself for a while. You pay your own bills, and have done well in school. But that has always been under the protection of being a minor. Once these papers are signed, you will be a legal adult. I just want to make sure that you understand that."

Monica waited a moment before she spoke. She wanted to ask Mrs. Tibbs to kindly explain just what protection she had been under. She also wanted to point out that if she had truly been protected, it wouldn't have taken Newman County two years to realize that her mother had taken off with her last "uncle", and that she had been playing piano at a jazz club at night for money. A great source of income until Mrs. Tibbs and her five-0 husband came to the club one night and decided to put an end to her moonlighting there. They're the reason she had to file for emancipation to begin with. But Monica didn't say any of those things. She needed Mrs. Tibbs to sign those papers in order for her to move on to plan number two.

"I realize that, Mrs. Tibbs. And I've given it a great deal of thought. I really appreciate you getting me the part time job with Mr. Darnelle. But I need more than 12 hours a week to keep the house payment up. I've got some money saved from when I was working at the club, but since I'm not allowed to work there anymore '_thanks to you', _she thought, and my savings are going fast. Mr. Darnelle can't give me more hours as long as I'm a minor and still in school."

"And your grades, Monica? Will you be able to keep your average up?"

Monica smiled slyly at Mrs. Tibbs and responded, "I'm a genius, Mrs. Tibbs, in case you've forgotten. Remember our IQ tests? Besides, if I can maintain A's while playing Ray Charles at night, I'm sure I can keep them up while prosecuting Ray Criminal during the day !"

At that, Mrs. Tibbs had to laugh. And Monica was right. If anyone could do this, it was Monica Styles.

"Well, congratulations! By this time tomorrow, you will officially be an adult!"

A few days after Monica's conversation with Althea Tibbs, another Tibbs by the name of Virgil was having a conversation with Lt. Lonnie Jamison, Capt. Bubba Skinner, and Sgt. Willson Sweet.

"Okay, guys. Any ideas on how to address these break-ins in the Bottoms?"

Bubba spoke up first. "Virgil, I gotta tell you. This just don't make no sense. Why would anybody break into anything in the Bottoms? Most those people ain't got much of nothing to steal and they 'sho ain't got no money to speak of."

"I'm with Bubba on this one, Detective. Why would anybody go burglarizing in the Bottoms?" Sweet asked.

Lt. Jamison spoke last, which was usual for him. "I'd say that they wouldn't. Unless they were looking for something in particular."

Virgil tried not to smile openly. He'd told Chief Gillespie time and time again that Jamison, not Skinner, would end up with his job as Chief Detective one day. And everyday, Jamison proved him right. He'd have to fill Bill in on Jamison's performance on this case when he got back from the Police Chief conference in New Orleans.

"I think you're on to something, Lonnie. Why don't you and Sweet see if our old buddy down there can tell us anything? Bubba, I'll need you to go with me to the hospital and see if the last victim is able to answer any questions yet."

Jamison and Sweet headed out of the police station and to Sweet's car. Since they were going down to the Bottoms to find their "snitch", Jimmy Dawes, neither of them was in uniform. They parked the car behind one of the many abandoned buildings and started to look for Jimmy. As they came up Peach Blossom Rd., Sweet saw an old friend of his.

"Hey, girl! Shouldn't you be in school right now?"

The girl that was walking in front of them stopped suddenly and turned around to face Sweet. Jamison thought they were about to get shot judging by the look on her face, but her eyes softened, a little, when she saw Sweet.

"No, sir, I should not," she responded with a smile. "But I'm quite sure YOU are supposed to be at work."

"I am working, Miss Styles! So watch yourself! But, seriously, why aren't you at school dazzling everyone with your Super Intelligence?"

"Well, I've got a little deal with my Honors History teacher. I do all my reading and assignments at home and turn them in on their due dates. I only have to come to class for exams and tests."

Sweet raised an eyebrow. "Okay. But where's the deal for the History teacher?"

"If I'm not in the classroom, then the other students don't realize that he's an idiot."

At that, Jamsion laughed out loud. Monica had forgotten he was there. Just as quickly as she had let her guard down to speak to Sweet, Jamison felt it go right back up when she remembered that a third party was present. Sweet sensed it as well and quickly made the introductions.

"Uh, Monica Styles, this here is Lt. Lonnie Jamison. He works with me at the station. AND he's a good friend of mine."

Monica supposed Sweet was trying to make her feel comfortable. It didn't work. This Jamison guy was HIS friend, not hers. Besides, she and Sweet may both be black, but she was Bottoms black. And that had always made a difference in Sparta, especially with white Sparta PD.

"Hi," she said, very coolly.

"Afternoon, Miss."

She stared at Jamison, hard, for what felt like forever to the guys. Normally, it put people off and helped Monica regain control in uncomfortable situations. It didn't work this time. Jamison just stared right back at her, equally as hard, without blinking an eye. Monica spoke first, refusing to let a white cop win a battle of will on her turf.

"It was nice seeing you again, Sweet. Be careful down here. You know how we people on this side of town can get." She rolled her eyes at Lonnie and left.

"What a cutie." Jamison said sarcastically. "You sure know how to pick 'em, Sweet."

"She's a sweet, girl, J. She's just been through a lot, especially since her mama left her to fend for herself. And what do you mean, 'I know how to pick 'em'?"

"Come on, Sweet. You mean to say that the only reason you know that girl is from undercover work? Is she a current girlfriend or an ex?"

"Me? HER? Jamison, are you crazy?"

"What? She's pretty, for a witch in training that is."

"No," Sweet laughed. "She's a prison sentence."

Jamison stopped walking and stared at Sweet. "Man, what are you talking about? She's in college, right?"

At that, Sweet roared with laughter. "In another three years! Monica Styles is 15 years old and goes to Sparta High. Come on. Let's split up and try to find Jimmy before you get me arrested."

While Jamison was finding out that he had just been cut down by a 15 year old kid, Monica was making her daily stroll through the Bottoms. As she passed by all of the broken down homes, crack houses, and two dollar whores, a slow and yet familiar hate began to swell up inside of her. She hated this place. She hated the way it looked, the way it smelled, and the way it felt. She hated hearing the way the drug pushers would talk to each other, using the word "nigger" as if it was a term of endearment. She hated seeing former female school mates who were now turning tricks to support their babies. It always reminded her that she was no better than their bastard children and that her mother was no better then they were…just luckier. She hated the way everyone who lived here rolled their eyes at her and whispered to each other when she walked by, as if they just couldn't wait for her to mess up and finally prove that she was just like them. They never spoke to her directly, even though they were all black and from the same place. Academic intelligence wasn't a high dollar item in the Bottoms. As Monica finally neared the broken down fence that surrounded her house, she realized that she was no more at home in the Bottoms than she was at school or at work.

Before Monica walked into her own yard, she stopped by a small shack about three doors down. And sure enough, her little buddy was sitting outside on an upside down crate.

"Hey, Shorty." Monica said to the little girl who couldn't have been more than 8 years old.

"I 'don told you not to call me that!" The child responded.

"Okay……TRINA. Did you go to school today?"

"Yes. And you can ask Uncle JD. He seen me walking there this morning." Trina was referring to Jimmy Dawes. The word in the Bottoms was that Trina's mom was a crack whore, and bought marijuana from Jimmy when she was between hits.

"Well?" Monica asked.

Trina reached into book bag and pulled out her spelling test. She had made a B. She handed it Monica, smiled, and then held out her tiny hand.

"What?" Monica said. "Oh, I guess I'm supposed to give you something, huh?"

Monica reached into her pocket and handed the little girl $10. "Now, what's the deal?"

Trina rolled her eyes, put her hands on her little hips and said, "$2 for school, $2 for crap, and $6 to stash in case Mama's trippin' out and I need food or something."

Monica gave Trina a quick little wink, and walked back up the street. It wasn't exactly an 'Althea Tibbs' moment, but sometimes a sister's got to work with what she knows!

Monica took out her key and opened the front door of her house. Her mother was one of the few people in the Bottoms who actually owned her home. Not that it was worth too much, but it was hers. It was also one of the larger homes down there. She had three bedrooms, a good size kitchen and even a small backyard. For the Bottoms, it wasn't half bad.

She walked into her bedroom, slid her bed over to the right and lifted a panel from the wood floor. She reached in and pulled out a small steel box. Inside was a brown envelope with her cash. She emptied the money on the bed and counted it. $2500, everything she had managed to save over the past 5 years. Some of the money came from gifts from her many "uncles" her mother used to bring home, most of it had come from the various night jobs she had over the past two years since her mother left with her last boyfriend. Keeping the money under the bed was the best she could do at the moment. Besides, she figured everyone would assume she was too smart to do such a thing, so it was safe. Also, she couldn't open a bank account by herself while she was minor.

"Just one more night under here before Mama finds you a new home." Monica said to the envelope before she placed everything back in its place.

She then sat down at her kitchen table and opened a small journal. In it she kept notes on what she referred to as her escape plan. Line item one had been taken care of. She would be a legal adult tomorrow. She placed a check mark beside of it. Line item two was to get more work hours out of Darnelle. Line item three was easy, keep her grades high, graduate with honors, and get the hell out here.

"Well, I'd better get dressed and start moving with number two. Darnelle is a pain when I'm late."

Lonnie and Willson returned to headquarters to advise Virgil of their conversation with Jimmy. They found him waiting with Luann Corbin.

"According to Jimmy, there are a couple of families living in the Bottoms that actually own their own places." Sweet said.

Virgil nodded knowingly, while Luann looked shocked. "Wait a minute. I always thought all of those places were owned by a handful of rich white families and rented out."

"For the most part," Jamison said. "But the owners are spread out throughout the Bottoms. What I mean to say is that a white family may own an entire street, except for maybe one or two places."

Suddenly Virgil saw where Jamison was headed. "And you're thinking that maybe some of these white owners want the other properties, and is trying to scare the owners?"

"Just a thought."

"Okay, Jamison. When you come in tomorrow, I want you to head over to the county clerk's office and see what you can find on all of the addresses where there were break-ins. I bet every one of them is an owner. Sweet and I will check surrounding addresses."

"I'll get right on it."

The next day, Lonnie left his house and headed straight to the county courthouse. He parked his car and ran up the stairs. When he opened the door, he heard people singing Happy Birthday. He saw Darnelle's assistant, Marie, and smiled a hello.

"Did I miss a party?"

"Yes you did, Lieutenant. One of our part time clerks. Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah. I need to see the deeds for all the addresses on this list. If you can't show me the deeds, just telling me the names of the owners would be great. I'm investigating the burglaries in the Bottoms."

"Actually, I'm in the middle of a project for Mr. Darnelle right now. But our birthday girl will be happy to take care of that for you in just a second. Let me get her."

Lonnie took a seat while he waited for Marie to bring back his help. In a few minutes, a somewhat familiar voice said, "Can I help you?"

Lonnie looked up and was face to face with Monica Styles. "Hello again, Miss Styles."

"Again?"

"Uh, I met you a few days ago with Willson Sweet."

Monica rolled her eyes and sighed. _'Great'_, she thought. On top of everything else she had going on today, she was now having an interview with Bo Duke.

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

Lonnie wanted to ask her why she was working here instead of going to school. But he thought he'd better find that out on his own. He told her what he needed and she left to go into the file room. It was at that moment that Lonnie noticed that a man who had been in the waiting area hadn't moved since he came in. He also seemed to be watching Monica. Monica returned with the information he needed.

"Can I help you with anything else?"

"Nope, that'll do. Good afternoon, Miss Styles."

As Lonnie was leaving, he noticed the man go to the desk in a somewhat hurried manner and begin a conversation with Monica. A conversation Monica didn't seem too happy about. It was going on about 5 o'clock, almost quitting time for the clerk's office. He decided to wait outside and see if Monica was okay. She may be a genius, but she was only 15.

The man left the building, and at about 5:15pm, so did Monica. She looked around the square a bit nervously and began walking towards the Bottoms. Lonnie called out to her before she got too far.

"Miss Styles!"

Monica turned around and saw Super Cop….again. She marched up to him, put her hands on her hips and said "You know… I'm off work now. That means I don't have to be nice to you."

"Well, that's good to know. Especially, since I'm trying to be nice to you. That guy that just left…he who is he?"

"None of your business, for one. Secondly, why didn't you ask him when he left?"

"From the way he sat in the office and watched you, and judging by the look on your face when you came out, I thought it best not to ask him anything just yet. Listen, I think I ought to give you a ride to wherever it is that you're headed. I watched the guy walk to the parking lot, but I haven't seen a car move."

"I appreciate it, but I've got this under control."

"So why are you shaking?"

"I'm not shaking!"

"Okay, then you just got a chill… in the middle of April…. in Mississippi. Either way, I'm not about to stand out here and argue with a 15 year old. Get in the car!"

Monica was pissed. Nobody, not even her own mother when she was around, had ever spoken to her that way. But she did have to admit that Jamison was right. It was too damn hot to argue. She got in his car, but hurried to open the door for herself. Jamison checked the power play and found it interesting. He had just thought that he should let her open the door for herself so she would feel in control. Not only was she mean, but she appeared to be a mind reader, too.

They drove in silence for a few moments. Then out of nowhere, she spoke.

"16, "she said.

Jamison was perplexed. "What?"

"You said you weren't going to argue with a 15 year old. My birthday is today. I'm 16."

"Happy Birthday. Now you have to stop being so mean to me."

"And why is that?"

"16th birthdays are supposed to be "sweet". And I'd hate to have to arrest you for breaking the rule."

Monica tried not to laugh, but it was so corny she couldn't help it. "Okay, truce. But just for today."

"Well, I guess I better hurry up and grill you before your birthday is over. Who was that guy and what did he want with you?"

"He wants to buy my house. Not him himself. But he says some people he works for want to buy it. He's been to see me before; but I don't know why. I couldn't have sold it if I wanted to because I was a minor."

Jamison eyed her closely. "Was?"

"Yes, was. I was legally emancipated a few days ago.

Jamison suddenly shifted a little in his seat. Monica owned her house, which meant that she could be burglarized on any given night if his theory was correct. He didn't want to alarm her since he didn't know anything for sure yet, so he kept his mouth shut.

"What?" Monica asked.

"Nothing."

"You're lying. Why?"

Damn! She did it again. Jamison wanted to deny it, especially since it pissed him off to be called a liar, even if it was true at the moment. It also bothered him that she KNEW he was lying when most people never caught it. But for some reason, he had a feeling that Monica wouldn't let him off the hook. So he filled her in on what was going on as he pulled into her driveway.

"Listen," Jamison said as he took out a card. "This is the number to the police station and me and Sweet's direct lines. If you see anything or think something's wrong, you call us. And try to be home before dark."

"Will do. Thanks, LJ."

"What did you call me?"

"I called you LJ. You should feel privileged. Most white people don't get nicknames until they've learned to rap. You're ahead of the game."

Lonnie laughed out loud, something he very rarely did. "So does this mean you like me now?"

"You're okay. For a corn-fed white boy, that is."

Lonnie sat in the driveway and watched Monica go inside her house and safely lock her door behind her. He was still laughing at his new nickname, so he didn't notice that the man from clerk's office was across the street watching as well.

Over the next few weeks, Lonnie saw Monica quite a bit. He was spending a lot of time at the courthouse on the Bottoms case and because Monica was so capable, Marie left him in Monica's hands. He was also running into her a lot at school, though he couldn't figure out why he hadn't noticed her there before.

They began to talk, not a lot at first, but somewhere into week three of his case Lonnie and Monica had found some common ground. They had both pretty much raised themselves since they had no fathers and their mothers were functionally useless. Lonnie's mother went into a severe alcoholic depression after his father died, and Monica's mother was, well, a glorified whore. And neither of them liked discussing their lives with people, except it seemed with each other. Monica also discovered that Lonnie was just as smart as she was, but being a boy he had purposely screwed up in school to keep from being called a nerd. Monica thought that was hilarious as she considered all white boys nerds no matter what they did.

People at the courthouse and at the school saw the two of them talking, but didn't seem to think too much of it. Lonnie had a way of communicating with teenagers and keeping them on the right path, so they figured he was just being his normal self. As far as Monica was concerned, they were just glad to see her talking to someone without cussing them out. No one seemed to be bothered at all by this new friendship, except for Lonnie.

He just couldn't wrap his mind around his attraction to Monica Styles. No.. not attraction, that was the wrong word. Not that he didn't think black women were attractive. He thought Althea Tibbs was beautiful and Darnelle's assistant, Marie, was cute as a button. But they were grown women. And Monica was a kid, sort of, well, technically anyway. She was attractive, VERY attractive, but no way was there an _attraction_. Besides, they were just friends, no different than he and Eugene Glendon. Except Gene wasn't gorgeous, smart, and didn't know his thought process inside and out. And Gene didn't call him LJ!

"_Okay," Jamison thought. "There's a logical explanation for everything. Calm down and figure this one out."_

He finally decided that he thought of her so often because he saw so much of her, and because of her connection to Sweet. And since he and Sweet were friends, he was obligated to show her a little special interest. Nothing more, nothing less. Besides, emancipated or not, the girl was only 16.

"Jamison, I know you're about to go off duty. But I really need the details on what you're digging up at the clerk's office." Virgil said.

"You're in luck. I finally finished up today. Sweet in there with you?"

"He sure is. Why?"

"Well, these burglaries may involve a friend of his and I thought he'd want to know."

Virgil and Lonnie walked into Virgil and the Chief's office. Sweet was standing by the door. Lonnie filled the guys in on what he found after finally organizing all of the files Monica had given him. After what he found, he also decided to clue them in on the guy he saw talking to Monica and his conversation with her.

"Did Monica give you the guy's name?" Sweet asked.

"No, but she did say that he was working on behalf of some other folks." Lonnie said.

"We need to find out who owns the houses near her. Sweet, if you don't mind me asking, exactly how do you know Monica Styles?" Virgil tried not to have any inflection in his voice, but he had met Monica several times at the school with Althea. She was a perfect combination of maturity and innocence, woman and girl...the kind of combination that could mean trouble for an otherwise intelligent man.

Sweet caught Virgil's concern and just shook his head. "Between you and Jamison here, I'm going stop investigating any cases that involve women. Look, my cousin was one of Monica's mother's playmates for a while. She would drop Monica off at my house for my Mama to baby-sit while she and my cousin, uh, did whatever it was they were doing. Monica's kind of like my baby sister. That's all. She's just a kid."

Lonnie chose that moment to speak up. "Actually, you're wrong, Sweet. Monica was legally emancipated a few weeks back.

Virgil couldn't hide his concern this time. "Which means she can now enter into contracts."

Lonnie nodded, "Which means she's probably in trouble."


	2. Chapter 2

FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART

Chapt. 2

Virgil got home at around 6:30pm. He always hated it when he had to involve Althea in his cases, but he needed to know about Monica Styles. Why was she living alone? How could she be working at the DA's office? And how could he best protect the child?

"Hi, honey!" Althea greeted him as he came into the kitchen. "I just set the table."

The two of them sat down for dinner and Virgil filled his wife in on the case.

"So," he said between a bite of meatloaf. "What's the complete deal with Monica Styles?"

"Well, she's our top student. Very smart, a genius, actually. She's so smart that most of the classes at Sparta High can't keep up with her. She's also, as I'm sure you can understand, incredibly mature for her age. Most of the faculty is put off by her because she's able to communicate with them on their level. So, I convinced the principal to let me design an accelerated program for her. She attends classes in the morning. Her afternoon classes she takes at home and has assigned due dates. That's why she's able to work for Darnell 3 days a week in the afternoon. She also gets credit for that. As a matter of fact, she's been offered a scholarship to a private school in North Carolina. But I wanted to get all of the emancipation stuff taken care of before I told her about it."

"Her parents?"

"Her mother, as I'm sure you've heard, is the last of the Bottoms' great kept women. Her last boyfriend hated visiting her here, so he moved her to New York. Monica has no idea who her father is. Neither does her mother from what I gather."

"Okay, so if you were able to get school balanced with her need to work, then why did she feel the need to file for emancipation?"

"She said she needed to have more work hours. Do you think she's really in danger?"

"Yes, I do. Althea, do you think I could talk to her in the morning?"

"Sure, but don't expect her to talk to you. She has severe trust issues."

"I'd imagine that she would. I'll send Sweet. She knows him."

"Remember, honey? Sweet's leaving for vacation tonight. He asked us to watch his house."

"That's right. Then I'll send Jamison. She met him with Sweet a few weeks back and I'm sure he's spoken to her since at the courthouse or at school. She's more likely to talk to him than me."

As Monica walked out of her front door for school the next morning, the man was waiting for her outside of her driveway.

"Congratulations. Welcome to adulthood. Think we can talk?"

"Sure Superfly! I love chatting with stalkers on my way to school."

Superfly laughed. "For a pretty girl, you sure have a very ugly mouth. Just like your mother."

"Look, I already told you that I'm not interested. Besides, I don't even know where the deed is. My mother probably has it."

"I know for a fact that she doesn't," Superfly said. "You see, we already talked to your mother. She left it here. For you. Sweet of her, wasn't it? Listen, I know that you owe about $15,000 on the house. I'm prepared to give you $20,000 cash, today."

Monica gritted her teeth and growled, "I…said…no. Just leave me alone!"

Superfly let Monica leave for school. They'd talk again. She could count on it.

On the way to school, Monica began to think about Superfly's offer. It would certainly add a bit more cash to her bank account. But with her advanced classes at school and her job with Darnelle, she just didn't want another major happening in her life right now. Besides, what money she made on the sale would have to be spent on a new place of equal size and a better location, so it really didn't make sense; especially since she'd be leaving the area in another two years.

Monica sighed as she thought of the real reason she didn't want to sell. Bottoms or not, the house was hers. And it was the only thing she had that truly reminded her of her mother, the mother that Monica wished she had been all the time. Oh, how proud her mother was that she owned her home. And the only time Monica remembered spending time with her was when they were cleaning or hanging some new picture one of her "uncles" had bought.

'_Good, bad or ugly,'_ Monica thought, _'113 Peach Blossom is mine.'_

Monica had been at school all morning. Darnelle, after a stand up argument, finally agreed to let her work 20 hours a week beginning next week. Number two on the escape plan list had been checked. However, he made her take the rest of the week off to prepare for exams. Since preparation wasn't necessary, she decided to work with Mrs. Tibbs in her office during the afternoons. When she got there, Althea advised her that Lonnie was coming to see her for an official visit.

"Do you know what it's about?" Monica asked.

Althea almost started to say no, but Monica had an uncanny way of knowing when she was being lied to, and Althea didn't want to break what little trust the existed between.

Just when she was about to answer, Lonnie tapped on her opened office door.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Tibbs. Good afternoon, Monica."

"_So they do know each other,"_ Althea thought. _"Lonnie never calls a woman by her first name."_

Monica smiled. "What's up, LJ?"

Lonnie smiled back at her. Althea was shocked. She'd never seen Monica smile at anyone about anything, unless she was being a smartass. And what's this "LJ" business? She decided to leave the two of them alone so Monica would feel more comfortable talking. When she left the office, Monica told Lonnie what happened at her house that morning. He immediately called Virgil and relayed the story to him.

"She can't go home alone, Virgil."

Virgil sighed. "I hear what you're saying, Jamison. But the guy won't show up if anyone is with her. And then we're left with exactly what we have now which is nothing. Listen, all of the break-ins have been non-violent. Except for the last one and that guy fell trying to chase the robber. I need you to talk to her. Let her know what we need, and see if she's willing."

Lonnie knew where Virgil was going. "No, Detective".

Virgil didn't like the tone in Lonnie's voice. "Excuse me?"

"What I mean is…" he cut his eyes towards Monica who doing a very bad job of pretending not to listen. "Virgil, she's only…."

"Jamison, are you working on this case….. or something else?"

"What exactly are you asking me, Detective?"

"Nothing. I'm telling you to advise Miss Styles of our plan and to find out if she's willing to cooperate. And I'm telling you to get back here to the station. Now."

"Yes, sir." Lonnie hung up the phone and looked at Monica. Before he could figure out what to say, she spoke.

"They want me to help you set this guy up, right?"

"Yes."

Monica looked at the clock. "Well, school's out at three. One hour and thirty minutes until show time. I guess you should go and get your game plan together, huh?"

Monica straightened herself out and began to busy herself with her work. She was behaving more like her guarded self, the same way she had behaved the first time Lonnie had met her. Only this time, Lonnie recognized it for what it was. He recognized it because it was same way that he'd been ever since his daddy died, and he had been in charge of his depressed mother until she passed away. Monica wasn't cold, unfriendly, or distant. She was scared. And there wasn't a soul in her life to be scared with.

Before he could stop himself, Lonnie reached out and took her hand away from her files. He noticed the way his pale white skin seemed to glow against her chocolate brown fingers, and was hit by an odd mix of shame and excitement. She tensed, but she didn't snatch her hand away from him like he expected. Instead, she turned her head and looked at him. He brushed her hair out of her face with one hand, while his other hand kept a tight grip on hers.

"Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

Monica looked at him, smiled indignantly and said "And what makes you think that I'm worried?"

He smiled back at her. "Nothing. Just thought I'd let you know."

Somehow, her head found his shoulder. Neither of them spoke a word as Lonnie put his arms around her and rocked her until he felt her body relax, an indication that she was starting to calm down. The moment was tender, though it was laced with tension. But even still, it was beautiful, innocent even. And in the middle of everything that was wrong with it, it seemed so very right.

At least that's what Althea thought as she watched the two of them through her office window.

Bubba and Virgil were waiting for him in the Chief's office, along with Luann Corbin and Parker Williams.

"Okay, Virgil. Looks like we know why this guy is after Monica Styles. But does that necessarily mean he's tied to the other break-ins?" Bubba asked.

"No, it doesn't. But if we catch this guy, we'll know for sure. I'm thinking the other break-ins might be a cover."

"Yeah, " Luann added. "Maybe he was after Monica's house all along and the others were to keep us busy. After all, she has one of the better properties in that area. And if Lt. Jamison hadn't run into her with the guy a few weeks back, we wouldn't know anything about her."

"Exactly." Virgil said. "And, nothing was stolen from the other properties, just vandalism. All right guys, everybody knows what to do. Monica should be getting home by 3:30. Let's get into position."

"Ready to go, Lieutenant?" Luann asked. She always rode with Lonnie when Sweet wasn't available. And she liked it. He was about the only guy on the force that didn't treat her like a female on the job.

"Luann, "Virgil interrupted. "Why don't you bring the car around and wait for Lonnie out front."

Luann looked confused, but left without saying a word.

Virgil hated everything about what he was going to say. And normally, he would wait until he had evidence before he would address something like this with one of his officers. But he liked Lonnie, he truly did. He was a great cop and was turning into a damned fine investigator. Virgil knew that if he waited for facts, he would have to conduct an investigation regardless of his feelings for the man. So against his normal mode of operation, he jumped right to the point.

"You know, Lonnie. Legal or not, Monica Styles is 16 years old. And black."

Lonnie chose his words carefully before he spoke. Virgil had taught him well, so his normal tricks of the trade wouldn't work now. "I'm fully aware of her age and her race, sir."

"_Good move, Lonnie. Good move," Virgil thought. "I'd be proud if I wasn't so…worried"._

"What I mean, Lonnie, is that I'd hate to see you make a stupid and impulsive move that could end your career before it had a chance to grow."

"Thank you for your concern, Detective. Is there anything else?"

Virgil just shook his head and sighed. "No, Lieutenant. You can go. Luann will fill you in on the way."

At the last minute, Superfly man had decided to follow Monica to school that morning. He wasted half the morning, ducking and dodging for hours, but he was glad he had followed his instincts. He thought that black cop would be his problem until he saw the white one bring her home a few weeks ago. His suspicions were confirmed when the white cop showed up at the school shortly around 1:30.

"So, he's the one I've got to watch. I better get back to her house before she has time to tell him anything."

He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the Bottoms.

Monica thought about her last moment with Lonnie all the way home. She had grown accustomed to their talks; and had even begun to look forward to them. She liked that he could determine her moods just by looking at her. He seemed to be able tell if she was thinking about something heavy or just plain in a hurry from watching the way she walked. And he knew that if she crossed her arms across her chest, somebody was in trouble! What was confusing to Monica was that she liked that Lonnie knew those things about her, when it normally made her angry when people presumed to know her. She liked that he paid enough attention to her to notice, when she normally tried to go unnoticed. And she liked it when he held her this afternoon.

She knew she was being silly. The man was, well, a man! And he could not possibly be thinking of her in a romantic way. Plus, with everything Chief Gillespie and Harriet Delong were going through, no way would LJ risk the same kind of damage, or worse considering her age. He was just being nice. And she needed get a hold of herself and remain focused on her escape plan. Her line items were taking form exactly as she had planned. This was not to time to start acting like a teenager.

Monica walked onto her front porch and turned her key. Before she could put down her books, Superfly grabbed her from behind and put a gun to her head.

"Now, you and I are going to have a nice little chat about this house."

Monica was terrified, but was determined not to show it. "So, I take it I was speaking French this morning?"

Superfly slapped her. Monica bit her tongue to keep from giving the man the satisfaction of hearing her scream.

He slapped her once more, and then lowered himself within inches of her face. "Now, let's try this again. Where's the deed?"

"I told you I don't know."

"I'm not playing games with you, girl! Where is it?"

"I'm not lying. I don't know. Why do you want it anyway? This isn't exactly the best neighborhood. You won't be able to sell it, and the rent you would get isn't worth the trouble. Why are you doing this?"

Superfly placed the gun at Monica's head again. "That's my business. Your business is to find that deed."

Meanwhile, across the street, Parker was two-waying Lonnie and Luann from an unmarked car. They were one street over watching the back of Monica's house.

"Guys, I've been sitting here for almost 2 hours. Monica came in at 3:40 as I reported, but she hasn't come out yet and there's been no sign of anyone near here."

"Okay, Parker. Lieutenant, did you hear that?" Luann asked.

"Yeah, I heard. I've got a feeling something's wrong. Parker, you still there?"

"Yeah, Lonnie. Go ahead."

"Listen, I'm going to the door. I'll signal if something's wrong."

Lonnie walked up the street and around the corner. If someone was watching the house, he didn't want them to figure out where Luann was parked.

He climbed the steps and knocked on the door.

"Hey, Monica. You in there? It's LJ."

The man had led Monica to the kitchen and had her going through all the cabinets and drawers when he heard Lonnie's voice at the door.

"Shit! Okay, my Nubian princess. Answer the door. And no funny stuff or I'll blow you and him away."

He grabbed Monica and dragged her into the living room. She opened the door slightly and said "Hi, Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

Lonnie raised an eyebrow. "I just wanted to check on you to see if you're okay. Do you need anything?"

Monica felt the gun grind into her side. "No, Lieutenant. I'm fine. I hate to be rude, but I'm in the middle of cleaning the living room. Thank you for stopping by, Lieutenant."

Lonnie left and went back to his car.

"Well?" Luann asked.

"She's in trouble."

"How do you know? Did you see something?"

"No, I didn't see anything. It's what I heard."

"Okay, what did you hear?"

"I heard her call me 'Lieutenant'."

Lonnie picked up his two-way and called Virgil.


	3. Chapter 3

FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART

Chapt. 3

After hearing what Lonnie had to say, Virgil didn't know how to respond. Lonnie gave him no clear specifics, but he seemed pretty adamant that someone was in the house with Monica.

"Okay, Lonnie. Tell me exactly what she said again."

Lonnie repeated everything, including how she was cleaning her living room.

"Why in the world would she tell you that?"

Suddenly, the answer hit Lonnie like lightening. "Virgil, he's got her in the back of the house. She was telling me to come in through the front door."

"Lonnie, you've got to be sure about this. If you're wrong…"

"I'm not wrong!"

"Okay, Lonnie. Parker, Bubba, I need you guys to enter through the front of the house..slowly. Me, Luann and Lonnie are covering the back from the outside.

Lonnie didn't ask why he wasn't sent to go in the front. His previous conversation with Virgil regarding Monica was why and he knew it. And honestly, Lonnie thought it was a good call.

Everyone got into position. Lonnie, Virgil, and Luann waited for what felt like an eternity. Suddenly, they heard Bubba shout. Then gunfire. Then a female scream.

"Go in! Go in!" Virgil yelled. The three of them rushed in the backdoor and into the kitchen. No one was there.

"We're back here, guys."

They all headed down the hall and found Parker and Bubba standing over the body of the man stretched out in the hall. Monica was standing in the bathroom clutching herself and staring at the dead man.

Lonnie almost ran to her, but caught himself. He held his position and asked "Monica, are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine." Lonnie could tell by the look in her eyes that she wasn't. He looked past her and saw that the bathroom was a mess.

"What happened in here?"

"He was looking for the deed to the house. The bathroom is where he dragged me before the other officers got here."

Virgil looked into the bathroom and noticed the mess as well.

"Parker, why don't you help me get some fingerprints? Bubba, can you and Luann get a statement from Miss Styles? Lonnie, go out to one of the cars and call this in."

He shot Lonnie a "now" look that at first made Lonnie angry. Then it occurred to him that he must have looked more upset than he thought and that Virgil was trying to avoid a scene by removing him from the situation.

Parker came back with the kit and began working on lifting the prints. All of a sudden, he said, "Well, I'll be. I ain't seen one of these since I was kid at my great-grandma's house."

Virgil already knew he would regret it, but he asked, "Seen one of what, Parker?"

"One of these claw foot bathtubs. See how the foot is all one piece with the tub? That's an original, not one of them reproductions. This thing's probably worth about three or four thousand dollars. Miss Styles sure is lucky."

Now it all made sense. "Parker?" Virgil asked. "What's your opinion about the pedestal sink?"

After Lonnie finished calling for the paramedics, he felt himself regain his composure. He went back into the house and caught the tale end of Virgil's opinion of why the man was after Monica's deed.

"So it wasn't the house. It's the items in it", he concluded. "Once we get this man identified, I say we get Harriet Delong over here as soon as possible for an assessment. This young lady may be sitting on quite a bit of money."

"In the meantime, Monica, I've called my wife and she's more than happy to have you stay with us until we get this situation completely closed."

"No thank you, Detective. Although, I do appreciate it."

"Monica, I know that you're a legal adult. But being held at gunpoint is scary for most 40 year olds. And we still don't know if that guy was working alone."

"And again, I must say no. I have a friend that I'm sure will be more than happy to stay with me tonight. I assume you should have the information on the intruder by tomorrow?"

"I hope to."

"Then it's settled. Thank you all again."

A few moments later, everyone headed back to the station. After a few hours, they did get an identification on the man. His name was Larry McGuire and he was partners with an antique dealer named Paul Martinez. Martinez had been the last boyfriend of Monica's mother. Martinez would outfit the Styles home with antiques whenever he didn't have anything else to do. Monica's mother had no idea of their value, she just thought they were pretty. His partner Larry, of course, was angry with Paul for spending company assets on a black woman and they had fought. Killing Paul appeared to have been an accident. The man fell, probably during a fight with Larry, and crashed his head. But Monica's mother knew they had been fighting about her. Larry killed her a few months ago, and planned to remove all of the antiques from the Styles home for money. Killing Monica would've been too risky in such a small town, so he thought he could con her into selling for the mortgage payoff amount.

Since Monica wasn't actually raised by her mother, she felt that a quick cremation would be appropriate. She did not want a memorial service as she felt showing respect for someone she hardly knew would be a lie, even if it was her mother.

Lonnie was finally able to shower and get ready to leave by around 8pm. He passed Virgil in the hall on his way out.

"Uh, Lonnie? I just wanted to tell you that you did an excellent job this afternoon. If it hadn't been for you, we wouldn't have known he had her in the back of the house."

"Thank you, Detective."

"She's lucky that you …knew her well enough to interpret her signal."

Lonnie remained silent. Virgil had always told him to let the man who opened the door walk through it first.

"So," Virgil continued. "Do you have big plans for the night?"

"Nothing special." Lonnie looked at Virgil and waited for him to make the next move.

Finally Virgil said, "Well, enjoy your evening."

As he watched Lonnie leave something told him to swing by Monica's on his way home. But if he did go to Monica's, and he found what he thought he would find, he would have to do something he didn't want to do. So instead of going to Monica's, Virgil went straight home and prayed that his instincts were wrong.

Monica had been sitting on her porch ever since the police and ambulance left a few hours earlier. She was afraid to go inside by herself. A couple of neighbors came over, but not for support. They were just being nosey, except for Jimmy Dawes. He appeared across the street out of nowhere, as usual. He didn't speak or approach her, but instead shot Monica an 'you straight?' look. Monica nodded, signaling that she was fine, and he left just as mysteriously as he had showed up. Just when she was beginning to think that she had messed up, a bright red corvette pulled into her driveway.

Lonnie walked onto her porch and sat down beside of her. "You thought I wasn't coming, didn't you?"

"I thought no such thing."

Lonnie smiled. "You're lying."

"Whatever, LJ." She smiled back, and then said, "Thank you for coming."

Lonnie took her hand and squeezed her fingers. "You're welcome. But I sure wish you'd have gone with Virgil. I don't like you being here by yourself tonight."

Monica shrugged her shoulders and said, "Mrs. Tibbs thinks that she knows how to talk to me, but all she does is give a bad imitation of a big sister. She means well, and I know that. But sometimes I find her irritating. And Detective Tibbs would've ended up going over the details of the break-in, whether he meant to or not. And I'm not in the mood to discuss it any more tonight."

"Okay. What do you want to talk about?" Lonnie asked.

Monica took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and jumped in with both feet.

"You and I. And what happened at school this afternoon. I felt something. Or at least I think I did. And I'd like to know if you did, too."

Since he and Monica had become….close, Lonnie had forgotten just how direct the girl could be. Her response completely knocked the wind out of him. He didn't answer her. Not because of his normal quietness, but because he was too stunned to do so.

"Well?" she said.

Lonnie ran his hand through his hair, the only nervous habit Monica had been able to detect he had, and finally spoke.

"Monica, you're a beautiful girl. You're smart, you're funny…."

"I've lived with myself for 16 years, LJ. I don't need a resume. And I don't need one of your Sparta Appropriate answers, either. It was a simple 'yes' or 'no' question."

"Nothing about that question was simple, Monica."

"It was to me."

"That's because you're still a kid."

At the moment, Monica snatched her hand away from Lonnie's as if it burned her. She turned around with anger in her eyes and before Lonnie could speak again, she slapped him right across his face.

"What in the hell is wrong with you?"

"Don't!" she screamed. "Don't you ever, ever, ever do that to me again! How dare you? I was a woman when you needed information from the courthouse. I'm a woman whenever you need reports at school. I was a woman when you needed to talk about your mother. But the second things get uncomfortable for you, all of sudden, I'm a child. This whole god-forsaken town has shuffled me from one to the other, at their convenience, since the day I was born. And I won't stand for it any longer. Not even from you!"

Lonnie sat in complete and utter amazement. He couldn't believe that she had actually slapped him. He also couldn't believe that he had actually sat still and listened to her yell at him when he came out here in the middle of the night to be supportive. And he was ashamed because she was right. Her question had made him nervous because he knew he couldn't lie to her. So he had tried to change the subject. He had wronged her for his own benefit. And he felt guilty.

"Monica. I'm sorry."

"At the moment, I'd tend to agree with you."

"Hey, I'm trying to apologize to you."

Monica finally turned around to face him. She was still mad as hell, but her eyes had started to soften a bit.

"So…are you going to answer my question now, or do I have to slap you again?"

Lonnie chuckled. "If you hit me again, I swear I'll arrest you for assault on an officer."

Monica laughed and placed her hand on top of Lonnie's. Lonnie finally spoke.

"I'm going to be honest with you, mainly because I don't want you slapping me again, and because you'd know if I lied to you anyway. I did feel something this afternoon. It's the same thing I feel whenever we're together, including right now. I'm not sure what it is, but it makes me uncomfortable. So, I push that feeling away and pretend it isn't there every time it shows up."

"Why does it make you uncomfortable? Because I'm black?"

"No! Because you're 16. And whenever I think of you that way, I feel like a pervert."

"And exactly what way do you think of me?"

"Monica, look. I care for you, you know that. And I know you care for me, or you wouldn't have asked the question. I really need for us to let that be enough for now. Okay?"

Monica watched Lonnie run his hand through his hair again and realized that the man was truly at a crossroads regarding their relationship. And he was right; she did care for him, so she let the subject drop. They both just sat on her porch, with their hands wrapped in each others, not saying a word for about ten minutes.

Finally Monica asked, "You're not going to stay here with me, are you?"

"I can't. It wouldn't look right, and I don't trust mys…..it just wouldn't look right."

Lonnie watched Monica's face for a reaction. Her anger had finally dissipated, but she was still scared.

"I could," he started, "stay in my car. It's a warm evening. I could pretend I was on a stake-out. Is that okay?"

"No. It isn't safe, cop or not. Tell you what….I'll go in first and lock my bedroom door. You sleep in the living room. Deal?"

"_Just say 'no', Lonnie thought. "Just say 'no'_."

He got himself together, squeezed her fingers again and said, "Deal."

Meanwhile at the Tibbs', Virgil decided he had to ask Althea what she knew, if anything, about Lonnie and Monica's relationship. Every instinct was telling him that something was going on between the two of them. But if he was wrong, it would cost Jamison his reputation and possibly his job. He had to be sure. Althea had already told him that Monica didn't date and that she had even admitted to Althea that she was a virgin. What Virgil wanted to know now had to do with Lonnie specifically.

"Althea, does Monica spend anytime with Jamison at school?"

"Well, they do run into each other from time to time. She assists me in the office and Lonnie keeps close tabs on the track teams' grades. Why?"

Virgil took a deep breath before he started. He knew that Althea thought a lot of Lonnie and that she cared for Monica. So he didn't want to upset her.

"What I mean is, have you seen the two them, well, acting inappropriately with each other?"

Althea stiffened a little. She was praying that this conversation with her husband would never happen. "No, I haven't."

'_Something's not right with her answer',_ Virgil thought. Normally, Althea would be probing him to death as to why he was asking such a question, but she continued to wash dishes as if Virgil had said nothing.

"Althea. Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Virgil stood up from the kitchen table, walked to his wife and looked her dead in the eyes.

"Thea….is Jamison messing around with this girl?"

Althea's mind raced back to the day she saw Lonnie holding Monica in her office. She remembered how gently he had stroked her hair, and how for the first time she saw Monica completely at ease. She thought how they both seemed to be smiling more. She thought of Virgil's recount of Lonnie's reaction to his plan on setting up the man at Monica's house, and how every time Lonnie left her office, Monica seemed more relaxed and at peace. She thought of everything she knew about Monica's maturity and strength, everything she knew about Lonnie's character. She thought of all of this, looked at her husband and told him the truth.

"No, Virgil. Lonnie Jamison is not _messing around_ with Monica Styles."

Monica and Lonnie waited on pins and needles for the next few weeks to hear the gossip regarding his spending the night with her. Monica expected some snide comments and looks from her neighbors. Instead, they actually started speaking to her whenever they saw her, as if they had found some new respect for her. Lonnie figured that at the least Jimmy Dawes knew about it and would try to sell the information to the Chief. They were both shocked to have heard absolutely nothing from anyone.

To be on the safe side, Lonnie decided it would be best if they spent their time together on the porch, in full view of her neighbors, whenever he came by; which had been almost every day since the attack. However, he was always careful to leave before it got too dark. That's where they were on a Saturday afternoon while they were discussing how strange it was that they seemed to have escaped the Sparta gossip mill.

"I'd say it's real peculiar," Lonnie said. "Parker hasn't even said anything." He hadn't told Monica about his conversation with Virgil.

Monica laughed as Lonnie had already filled her in on Parker's connection to any and all things Sparta. But she decided that she liked Parker because he had been right about the items in her home. Harriet Delong came to her place and had immediately arranged for some dealers to come over the next few weeks. She had estimated the value of her furniture and other items to be around $60,000.

"It really isn't all that strange if you understand the rules and regulations of living in the Bottoms." Monica said. "No one's said anything because they like you. Or they like the situation, anyway. Chief Gillespie could come down here and question everyone…and they'd all lie."

"What do you mean?"

"LJ, if you had come back and spent a second night with me, please believe that all hell would've broken loose. Not that it's new. People from the Bottoms are used to seeing white men creep down here to be with black women. But with you being a COP and white…they'd have driven Gillespie here themselves."

"Okay. You've got a point so far. But I'm still a cop, I'm still white, and I spend damn near everyday with you here. Why hasn't anyone said anything?"

Monica smiled. With all the stereotypes floating around Sparta about the Bottoms, white people seemed to be the ones clueless about how to treat another person.

"Because you come to me during the _day;_ not creeping into my bedroom at night. We sit out front on my porch, properly chaperoned by the entire Bottoms community. That's different. At least for us down here it's different. It's a perfectly respectable courtship...respectful of me. And nobody down here has EVER seen a white man show a black woman respect.

Lonnie smiled, pulled her hair in a playful manner and said, "Is that what I'm doing? Courting you?"

Monica stiffened a little. The last time they discussed this topic, it ended up close to being an argument.

"I don't know what you're doing. You won't tell me."

Lonnie sighed, lowered his head and raised it again to meet her gaze. "Monica, you know that I have feelings for you. Strong feelings. And I'm still trying to work all of that out."

"That's what I don't get. What exactly is it that you need to work out?"

"I'm a cop, Monica. And a good one. The reason I'm a good cop is because I see things in black and white…no pun intended. Something's either right or it's wrong. But this whole thing with you doesn't fit into my normal way of thinking. You're an adult, but not really. I'm breaking the law, but not really. My spending personal time with a 16 year old girl is definitely unethical, and yet I find myself choosing to be here with you. I'm not used to gray areas. I can't stand them actually, and I'm a little caught off guard to be smack dabbed in the middle of one."

"Is that why you won't make love to me?"

Lonnie stopped breathing for a moment. He knew she'd get around to asking about that and he had been dreading it. He remembered when he had first kissed her on the lips the other evening at dusk. He had tried so hard not to, but the way the moonlight glittered off of her dark skin made him forget himself. He bent down to kiss her on her goodnight on her cheek, but somehow he had found himself kissing her lips. It took everything in him to pull himself away before he took her right there on her front porch. He had not kissed her like that since and she'd been a little upset with him since.

"That's why I can't make love to you. No matter what the state of Mississippi says, you are not an adult yet. And stop rolling your eyes at me. There are a lot of choices out there for you to make yet, and I care for you too much to let you make a decision you may not be ready for. I won't take something from you that I can't give back."

"What do you mean?"

Lonnie lowered his eyes, embarrassed at what he was about to say.

"I know that you're a virgin."

"If you actually _knew_ that, I wouldn't be so confused right now. As it stands, you're guessing and I'm about to die in a fit of heat and frustration."

Lonnie's face turned beat red. He dropped his head to keep from looking at her until he heard her giggle. When he finally looked up, she crossed her eyes and licked her tongue out at him which made him laugh.

"Besides," she said. "I've never told you one way or the other."

"You didn't have to tell me. I know you. And I know you don't give of yourself easily."

Monica lowered her eyes for a moment. When she looked up again, she appeared so angelic to Lonnie he almost cried.

"Will you say it?" she asked.

"You already know."

"I need to hear you say it."

Lonnie looked at her lovingly. He hated denying her. He knew what she was feeling and what she was so desperate to hear, what he was so desperate to say. But he couldn't. And he knew it.

"I can't. It would be a crime."

"What… against Sparta PD's Code of Ethics?"

"No… against you."

At that moment Monica knew that Lonnie loved her. And when she suddenly stopped probing him, Lonnie knew that Monica loved him. She placed her head on his shoulder, while he placed one arm around her. And the two of them sat together in silence for a while, content with what they had just discovered about each other.

After a few minutes, Monica finally spoke.

"You're a pretty complex man, LJ."

"Yeah," he smiled. "For a corn-fed white boy."

"So, do you know what Mrs. Tibbs wants to see me about on Monday?"

"I have no idea. But let's worry about that on Monday."


	4. Chapter 4

FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART

Chapt. 4

On Monday morning, Monica went directly to Althea Tibbs' office. She still had no clue as to what Mrs. Tibbs wanted, but she sounded pretty excited when she called.

"Good morning, Monica. Have a seat!"

"_A little giddy for a Monday, aren't we?"_ Monica thought to herself.

"I have good news, Monica. There's private girls' school in North Carolina that wants to admit you beginning with the next school term. It's one of the top girls' schools in the country and they also have a college program."

"North Carolina?"

"Yes. I know that may sound scary, but this is a great opportunity for you. Here. This is the information package the administrator sent to me."

Monica took the package from Salem Academy, but didn't open it. Althea noticed her hesitation.

"Is something wrong, Monica?"

"It's just that you and I have been prepping me for the extension program at Sparta College so I could keep working with Mr. Darnelle. Now all of sudden we're talking about North Carolina."

"Sparta College was a good choice for you at the time we designed the program. While several schools wanted you, their scholarship programs didn't cover your travel and incidentals. You couldn't work and keep up with college level accelerated programs. Sparta College would've allowed you to keep working because their programs are less intensive."

Althea stood up and took a seat beside Monica.

"But Salem Academy is different. You would go in as a senior for one, because of your placement scores. And if you move on to Salem University, your senior year credits count towards your first year college credits. AND their scholarship covers all expenses. Besides, when you sell the items in your home, you won't have to worry about incidentals. We're talking about the difference between a good school and a great one."

Monica still didn't respond. Althea was worried that she knew why. She had kept her mouth shut so far, but this was Monica's future. She finally approached the subject she had been avoiding.

"Monica, I'm sure that everyone who cares for you would want this for you. Including Lonnie."

Monica suddenly looked up to face Althea. No one had ever mentioned Lonnie directly to her before now. For the first time in her life, she was speechless.

Althea sighed and asked, "Exactly what's going on there, Monica?"

As quickly as she lost it, Monica reclaimed her composure and answered,

"LJ is a very special person, Mrs. Tibbs."

"To you or in general?"

"Is there a difference?"

"There could be. If you're about to make a decision that could change the rest of your life, I'd say yes. There is a difference."

Again, Monica didn't speak. Althea knew that she wouldn't get any more out of her, so she decided to end the conversation.

"Will you promise me that you will at least think about it before you make a decision?"

"Yes, Mrs. Tibbs. I'll think about it."

After Monica left to go back to class Althea sat at her desk and wondered if she had been wrong in deciding not to interfere with Monica and Lonnie's relationship. And there definitely was a relationship, although Althea wasn't exactly sure what the relationship was. She knew it was stronger than friendship, but she couldn't see Lonnie crossing that line…unless his heart was telling him it was right.

Althea had tried to convince herself that she had remained silent because Monica and Lonnie were just friends and Virgil was over-reacting. But, she knew that wasn't true. She had said nothing because Monica had never in her whole life had anything or anybody. And in her heart, she wanted Lonnie for Monica.

If it had been any other girl in the school, Althea would've been outraged. But Monica was different. Her birth certificate said she was 16, but Monica Styles was no more a child than she was. Her mother had seen to that. And Althea had always thought that because of her maturity level, Monica would eventually end up with an older man anyway. She used to think it might end up being Willson Sweet, but in her opinion, Lonnie Jamison was just as good a choice if not better. There was something that passed between Lonnie and Monica, something special and almost magical. Right or wrong, Althea believed they belonged together.

The race issue would be a problem for them, definitely. There were already rumors flying about Chief Gillespie and Harriet Delong. The two of them were meeting secretly, but everyone in Sparta knew about. And they both were suffering personally and professionally because of it. She didn't know how Lonnie and Monica would be able to deal with that AND deal with the age difference, but Althea had no doubt that they could handle both if they chose to continue their relationship, whatever it was.

But that was before Salem Academy called. Monica now had a chance for something bigger than the Bottoms, bigger than Sparta. And her gut told her that Monica was hedging because of Lonnie.

Althea knew what she had to do. She hated it, but her job was to protect Monica.

Lonnie and Sweet were at the lake fishing. They both rarely had the day off together, so they always made plans to hang out on those rare occasions. Normally they would drink beer, catch each other up on their latest cases and love life, and drink more beer. Today, Sweet appeared to be a little on the quiet side.

"What's up, Man?" Lonnie asked. "You're haven't said more than two words since we've been here. That's normally my job."

Sweet put down his beer and got ready to ask the question that had been bugging him for the past several weeks.

"You know, I never got around to thanking you for watching out for Monica while I was on vacation," he said.

"Just doing my job, man." Lonnie responded.

That answer set Sweet off. He had planned to be cool, but Lonnie's answer somehow seemed disrespectful.

"Are you sure about that?"

Lonnie was caught off guard by the inflection in Sweet's voice. He turned slowly and stared at his friend while Sweet continued.

"I mean, is it your job to go over to her house everyday and sit on her porch, holding hands with her like you're her boyfriend or something? And spending the night with her after the break-in. That was in your job description, too?"

"Look Sweet. I don't know what you think you know, but…"

"What I THINK I know? Okay, Lonnie…okay. How about this? I got it from Jimmy Dawes that you've been screwing around with that girl, or at least trying to, since the day I left for vacation. And since I consider Monica family, and you and I are supposed to be friends, I thought that maybe you could find some time in your new schedule to explain to me what in the hell it is you're doing!"

Now Lonnie was angry. Sweet was the only person in Sparta he had ever opened up to, that he trusted. At least, until he met Monica. He couldn't believe that Sweet would think so lowly of him.

"First of all, Jimmy Dawes is wrong. Yes, I stayed with her after the attack, but I never touched her. She was scared so I stayed. A bad judgment call, I admit. But I didn't take advantage of her… and I wouldn't. YOU of all people should know that."

"Okay, you didn't sleep with her. But don't you think that the two of you spending time together is inappropriate at best?

Lonnie was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He didn't want Sweet to think badly of him, but he wasn't accustomed to disclosing details of his personal life either. On top of that, Sweet took his job as a police officer as seriously as he did. If he decided to talk to Virgil or the Chief about this, Lonnie could kiss his job good-by. At the same time, his friendship with Sweet was just as important to him as Monica was. So he gave in.

"Willson, here's the deal. I care for her. Very much. I think… I may even be in love with her. And no, I haven't told her that. And I won't. At least not for a while. Believe it or not, I happen to agree with you that 16, legal adult or not, is a little young to discover that a 29 year old cop sometimes has dreams about being married to you."

Sweet was in complete and utter shock. He didn't know exactly what he had expected Lonnie to say, but he sure didn't expect this.

"Monica and I have talked about our rela..friendship. We know where the other stands and why. For now, we're just really good friends who care very much for each other. In the meantime, we spend time together when we can. And yes, it is inappropriate. But neither of us is willing to give it up until we have to. Something…calls us to each other, Willson. We don't know what it is or why it is, but we need each other. At least for now we do. What happens later on is up to her. What I do know is that if we're still a part of each other's lives a few more years down the road….I'd probably want to…look, she's the TYPE of woman I've always imagined I'd spend the rest of my life with, okay?"

Lonnie was finally quiet and waited for Sweet's response. Sweet just stared with his mouth opened. Finally Lonnie spoke again.

"Well?"

After all he had heard, and after deciding that he believed every word of it, Sweet gave the only response he could come up with.

"Damn."

It had been a week since her conversation with Monica regarding Salem Academy, and Althea had not heard one word from the girl one way or the other. Althea gathered her senses and walked down to the track field.

It didn't take her long to spot Lonnie rounding the inside track with Eugene Glendon. They stopped just a few yards from where she was standing. She let them finish their conversation before she approached Lonnie.

"Hi, coach," she greeted him.

"Hey there, Mrs. Tibbs. Don't tell me Eugene's grades are slipping again. I stopped checking his so often because he seemed to be doing pretty good lately."

"No, Eugene's doing great. If he keeps it up you might be losing him to a great college program, though."

Lonnie smiled. "I think I could find a way to live with that."

Althea saw this as her way to begin her conversation. "That'll be two of Sparta High's finest gone."

Lonnie eyed Althea carefully. "What do you mean?"

"Monica Styles. She's been offered a full scholarship to a private school in North Carolina. They want her to start this Fall. But I'm sure she's told you all about it already."

Lonnie heard Althea loud and clear. "No, Mrs. Tibbs, she hasn't. But if I see her, I'll be sure to mention it to her."

"This is a great opportunity for her. And I want what's best for her, Lonnie."

"So do I, Mrs. Tibbs. So do I."

Lonnie and Monica were sitting on her porch as usual. He had just finished telling her about Virgil Tibbs starting law school over some iced tea he had brought from the Magnolia Cafe.

"What's up, LJ?" Monica asked.

"Nothing."

Monica laughed. After all this time, he still gave her the same answer to the same question even though he knew she knew better. Lonnie caught it and began to chuckle himself.

"Okay," he said. "I was wondering how long we were going to sit out here before you told me about your scholarship offer."

"You know… for a little woman, Mrs. Tibbs sure has a big mouth."

Lonnie smiled. "Considering that her husband is indirectly my boss, I'm not going to respond to that. But I would like for you to tell me about this scholarship."

"Some school in North Carolina has a high school and a college. I would go in as a senior and start their college program in a year. If I decide to take it."

"Why wouldn't you take it?"

Monica was shocked and a little hurt by his question. "Why would you want me to?"

"Because it's a great opportunity and a chance for you to leave Sparta."

"I didn't know that leaving Sparta was the objective here. For some reason, I thought my _staying_ in Sparta would be the objective. But then again, since you've banned us from discussing it, I really don't know what the objective is, do I?"

"Monica, don't."

"Don't what? Don't ask you to explain why it is you won't stay away from me, and yet you won't touch me? Don't ask what your intentions are? Don't ask why you all of sudden want to send me away? Fine, I won't ask. I think I already know. You were bored, and I'm so very glad that I've been able to keep you entertained!"

"Now what a minute..."

"No! I've been waiting long enough and I'm sick of it! You're free, Lieutenant, dismissed! You are free to congratulate yourself on being able to break Monica Styles! And you are more than free to get the hell off of my front porch!"

Monica ran inside of her house and slammed her front door. Lonnie sat completely still for a few minutes, and then stood up.

When he walked into the house Monica was standing in her now empty living room. Her shoulders were heaving and Lonnie knew that she was crying. He put his arms around her, but Monica fought him and tried to break free. Lonnie just kept his grip on her until she stopped fighting. He felt the side of his face rest upon hers, and he closed his eyes to shut out the feelings of guilt mixed with passion he was having. He kissed her cheek, opened his eyes, and finally said the words he had sworn he wouldn't say until she was older.

"I love you, Monica."

Monica looked up at him in disbelief. "You're just saying that so I won't be mad."

Lonnie smiled at her from the side of his mouth. "You're always mad about something or another, so trying to avoid that is useless. I said it because I mean it. I love you. I love you so much that sometimes it hurts to look at you. I see you running down the hall at school and I wonder what you'd look like chasing our kids around the house. I hear your name and wonder if you'd take mine if we ever got married or if you'd go Yankee on me and decide to hyphenate it. I love you so much that….that I can't let you throw away what's best for you because some corn-fed white boy is completely and totally gone over you."

Monica buried her face in Lonnie's chest and wrapped her fingers in his hair. Finally she looked up at him and spoke.

"What if some corn-fed white boy is what's best for me?"

Lonnie kissed her forehead and looked deep into her big brown eyes.

"Then he'll be here when you get back."

Summer finally came to Sparta, hot as always, but welcomed just the same. Monica and Lonnie continued to meet on her front porch even though she was now staying at the Tibbs'. There was no furniture at all in Monica's house anymore since Harriet Delong had arranged for the sale of her furniture. And to Monica's surprise, both Ms. Delong and Parker had been way off regarding the value. When all was said and done, Monica cleared a little over $100,000. She paid off the remaining $15,000 owed on her house, and Mr. Darnelle helped her arrange for the house to be rented after she left for North Carolina.

Monica and Lonnie never spoke about the afternoon he finally told her that he was in love with her, and he had never said it again. They also never actually said outright that she was definitely going to North Carolina. They both just knew. They knew that she had to go and that if they were meant to be, the Fates would lead her back to him when the time was right. That was what they both loved about being together; that both seemed to know when nothing needed to said. They had a way of feeling each other without touching, sensing the other's need without asking, and instinctively knowing when something just simply needed to be left alone.

The Tibbs' loved having Monica at the house. She was great with the twins and Aunt Etta liked her. Virgil had finally given up on finding out if Lonnie and Monica were seeing each other. Since she was leaving for North Carolina, he had decided that was one door he would leave shut, for Lonnie's sake. Besides, Willson Sweet had told him that Monica was perfectly safe with Lonnie, and Willson wouldn't trust the girl with just anybody.

Things got a little hectic when August rolled around. Chief Gillespie and Harriet Delong were now seeing each other openly and were taking quite a few hits. Sweet was secretly looking at other job opportunities with more room for advancement. And Virgil was trying not to fall apart between work, law school, and the twins! So when Althea suggested a dinner party for Monica the night before she was to leave for school, they all thought it would be a welcomed break. Everyone was invited, DA Darnelle, the Chief and Harriet, Sweet, and even Parker! Just to be on the safe side, Virgil scheduled Lonnie to work that night so he wouldn't be able to attend.

Everyone left at around 10pm. Monica had seen Lonnie earlier that morning, but neither of them could bring themselves to say good-bye. They did agree that they would write to each other, but no phone calls. They felt that hearing each others' voices would make it impossible for Monica to stay in North Carolina and finish school. Monica was thinking of Lonnie when Althea interrupted her thoughts.

"All packed?"

"Yep. I can't believe that I'm actually leaving tomorrow."

Althea giggled. "I know. I remember when I left for college. I was so excited that I couldn't sleep the night before. Now, you remembered to write down our home and office numbers, right?"

Monica patted her briefcase, a gift from Mr. Darnelle. "They're all in here!"

Althea eyed the briefcase and smiled. "You don't think your former boss is pushing for a criminal justice major, do you?"

"Mr. Gerard Darnelle? Why Mrs. Tibbs, whatever would make you think such a thing?"

They both laughed and Monica told Althea that after all the discussion of antiques and watching Ms. Delong and the dealers at work, she had decided to major in Interior Design. They chatted a bit more and finally Althea asked about Lonnie.

"He's been very supportive. He's a little nervous, though he's trying to hide it. He won't admit it, but he thinks I can't take care of myself without him."

Althea smiled. "Don't worry. All men think that way."

Monica looked around the guest bedroom for a clock, but didn't see one. "What time is it?"

"It's about 11:30. Why?"

"I'm going out for a while. There's something I need to take care of."

"Well, okay. But…where are you going?"

Monica looked down at her feet and then back up at Mrs. Tibbs.

"I need to say good-bye to someone."

Lonnie finally got home from work at around 12:45am. As soon as he opened his front door he knew that something was wrong. His end table had been knocked over, and when he looked back at his door lock, it had been jimmied opened, then locked back.

He drew his gun and moved slowly through each room until he got to his bedroom. He opened the door slowly.

His intruder was sitting on his bed. Lonnie moved slowly and when he did, the intruder stood up. Lonnie stopped and finally spoke.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Why?" the intruder asked.

"Because I'm not as strong as you think I am."

"Good. Because I'm not as naïve as you think I am." The intruder said.

"Please." He choked. "Please go…before we do something we may end up regretting."

"Regret? We were _sent_ to each other, LJ. You know that as well as I do. No matter what the future holds for either of us, there could never, ever be regret."

Lonnie tried to speak, but he couldn't find the words. He tried to walk away, but he couldn't find the strength. He tried to close his eyes, but hers held him captive.

Suddenly, Monica moved towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He kissed her, gently as he always had, and tried to remove her hands from behind his neck. But this time, Monica kissed him back, ran her hand up his chest and began to unbutton his shirt. Lonnie tried to stop her, but for reasons he couldn't explain, his hands wouldn't move. When he felt her fingers on his bare chest, he lost what little sense of control he had. His kisses became more passionate, almost savage in nature, and when his tongue found hers for the first time, he moaned. Somehow his lips found their way to Monica's neck, and then her shoulders.

She whimpered softly and finally whispered, "I love you, Lonnie."

At that moment, Lonnie cradled her in his arms and carried her to his bed. He had finally lost his battle with his soul. And he didn't care.

When he woke up the next morning, Monica was gone. He knew that she would be, and he loved her for it. She left to spare him the pain of facing her after acting against his principles, even though what happened between them was the most natural and perfect experience of his entire life.

He stayed in bed for a while, remembering how good it felt to have her in his arms and how good it felt to hear her say 'I love you'. He finally got up, showered, and went into the kitchen to get something to eat. When he went to open the refrigerator, he found a note that said, _"I'll love you always."_

Lonnie smiled and fought the tears that were forming in his eyes. He took the note and gently placed it in his wallet next to the picture of his mother.

"Me, too," he whispered out loud. "From the bottom of my heart."


End file.
